


Memoirs of longing

by goldenflares



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 02:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12049659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenflares/pseuds/goldenflares
Summary: “I think I like you,” Liam blurts out one night, a little drunk, when Theo drives him back home from the club.





	Memoirs of longing

    “I think I like you,” Liam blurts out one night, a little drunk, when Theo drives him back home from the club.

    He has his sight focused on the road, not bothering to dignify Liam’s statement with a proper reaction, save for a quiet scoff and a few nervous taps on the steering wheel. 

    He could tell him he’s still the same. He could say it’s nice to know Liam started to care. Or that of all the things he did tonight, this one he’ll come to regret the most. He could be sincere and say he’s glad he found a way, but he knows better than that.

    He finds himself desperately itching for a whiskey or a smoke to numb the unfamiliar feeling that rises in his chest. It creeps up so soft and slow, he almost doesn’t notice when it does, until, suddenly, he’s tripping on fragments of thoughts and words he’s refusing to express. He’s on a slippery slope, he knows.

    They’re quivering on the precipice of change, neither of them willing to jump head first into the rift, and Theo knows that, for once in his life, he needs to do the right thing and take a step back. His heart is too cold and empty for this, anyway.

    A few silent minutes later, when Theo finally turns to look at him, Liam’s got his head pressed against the window, sound asleep.

    His hands linger when he pulls him out of the car. He tells himself it’s because Liam’s getting a bit heavy to hold.

    Leaving the driveway, tiredness catches up with him the same way his car lights catch up with those blurred white stripes on the deserted road back home. 

* * *

    When Liam presses him against the wall, long deft fingers stroking down and over the familiar path, he feels like home. He feels like waves crashing down on the welcoming shore. A harbour to the uneasy sea. A warm light on winter’s day. 

    Hooked on a late night love, with emptiness in his heart lost and forgotten, he feels like there still might be some hope out there for them. For a moment, it seemed almost within his grasp. He pushes the swirl of treacherous thoughts to the back of his mind and lets his head roll back as Liam mouths at the skin on his neck.

    Liam’s body moves along with his and Theo’s hands scrabble against the surface of the wall for purchase, struggling to maintain the semblance of control in this little game they play. The very one that somehow still fools him into thinking he’s numb enough not to feel loneliness seeping through his skin and sticking to his bones. He tries to stop himself from arching into Liam’s hands. He fails. Head falling down on the shoulder, fingers fidget to unbutton and unzip with no gracefulness nor longing to it.

    They’re a few years wiser and a few years bolder, and they both say they don’t bother with the feels. They’re walking on thin ice, Theo knows this. He thinks he’s more than okay with that. He claims he is. It’s a work in progress—a training of the heart.

    “I love you,” Liam later gasps into the crook of his neck, and Theo is sure he doesn’t mean it.  _You don’t_ , he wants to say, but knows he can’t and shouldn’t. Liam’s lips hover over his but never close the distance.

    He misses the way Liam once looked at his mouth.

* * *

    With those sharp edges of his dissolved and softened, he’s neither young nor old, neither good nor evil. He says it’s only because he got lulled into a false sense of security. He says some things never change—he’s troubled and relentless, and always has been. There’s still darkness sticking to his heart like street tar on the bottom of the feet. After all, they say that the wolf changes his coat, but not his disposition.

    Sleep still doesn’t come easy to him. It’s something he learned to live with long ago. And there’s still a flicker of apprehensiveness in Liam’s eyes sometimes. He learned to live with that too.

    “I think I could’ve fallen in love with you,” he once told him and it sounded like a lie meant to make both of them feel better. Theo knew it wasn’t. Liam didn’t quite finish the thought, but he didn’t need to. Theo couldn’t bear to hear the rest of it, anyway.

    Of all the things he broke and conquered, it’s that single one that he never figured out how to attain that he still wants the most. 

    Theo thinks about him, sometimes. In moments like this, on cold nights when everything is still and veiled in a thick mist, when his mask of unshakable stoicism falls down like curtains after the last show and he's all alone, left to deal with the consequences of his own mistakes. 

    He’s moving down the familiar road that’s leading him back home, eyes getting heavy with exhaustion, and he tries hard to focus on anything else—anything tangible—and not to think about the abyss of emotions trapped in his throat. 

    All messed up and no place to go, he doesn't stop when he reaches his destination. He goes on. 

* * *

    He never thought he’d stick around. He thought he was just passing through, but somewhere along the line things changed. Time passed. He started to care. Gaze softened under the hand of nostalgia. Apprehension turned to trust. Late nights became early mornings. Lips meeting half-way, touch grew more tender. 

    It's a warm summer night when his legs carry him to the riverbank. He casts a look at the bridge above, lit by flickering car headlights, and pauses for a moment, a memory of Liam flashing through his mind—that night, years ago, back when they still lived in Beacon Hills, when Theo offered to drive him home. Next to him, Liam slows down and turns to fully look at him. He doesn't ask him where they're going. It doesn't matter.  

    “I love you,” he says instead, with a familiar touch to his hand, voice just loud enough to pull him back to present.

    “I know,” Theo replies and entwines their fingers, the other hand moving to curl around the back of Liam’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _Written for a[prompt](http://katniz.tumblr.com/post/165448898585/)._  
>    
> 


End file.
